Cages
by Takashi Yorukawa
Summary: To most people, cages are things used only to cage animals and other vile things and beasts. But not for Kamiya Kaoru. Once living a happy life, now she only knows pain and misery. Kaoru Kamiya, is caged.


Cages

To most people, cages are things used only to cage animals and other vile things and beasts. They are usually well kept and the creatures or atrocities inside treated just as they should-humanely.

But for others like Kamiya Kaoru, cages are different things. They are homes, they are prisons, they are shelters, and they are sanctuaries to keep vengeful and rather violent people out. For her, it was all and more. A home when she was having a good day, a prison when she wanted out, a shelter from most of the weather, and a sanctuary when people wished to attack and throw things at her. 

But most of all it was torment, prison, and unpleasantness all rolled into one. Once an outgoing woman she had been humbled in her enclosure when she had been kidnapped and forced into this world of misery and pain where she was the animal and the people her vengeful masters. 

But why was she kidnapped? In the early stages, she had blamed herself, right when her resolve was melting and molding into what she is now. A scared creature beaten above and beyond death it seemed. A shadow. Then she had received an answer. Shishio, her master, her ruler, her tormenter-was a rival of her husband. Her beloved Himura Kenshin. The one she'd surrendered everything to and loved dearly with all of her heart. 

Here, in the deep recess of some unknown mountain in a seemingly God-forsaken bandit hideout, she lay in her cage, battered and bruised. Her clothes had been burned long ago. After all, why did she need them? They'd only get in the way of her 'customers'. At that thought, her poor insides bunched up and cramped, and she couldn't bear to look at the fresh blood she knew coated the insides of her thighs and the floor underneath, coated with a layer of a white flaky substance as well. 

In the weeks she'd been here, Kaoru had been beaten, used, abused, and tormented every waking and sleeping moment, the later was very short in itself-Kaoru rarely slept now a days. The once proud and confident teacher had shrunken and humbled. She no longer audaciously faced anything in her path; instead she shrank back at every sound, and flinched at even a polite gesture, though few, which were given to her. 

Her life, once flowing with happiness and mirth was now filled with pain and misery. She prayed for a death that never came, hoped for ears to listen to her screams of anguish and come to her aid, and wished on every star she saw that someone would make it stop hurting. Her life was hell. 

Kaoru, when given the chance, would try to remember the good life where she'd never known any pain or hurt, only love and contentment. She tried to remember the faces of her friends, her husband, and even the sight of her house and adjoining dojo. But she only got a blur of images before she surrendered to the darkness that always wanted to seize her. She even tried to imagine that instead of the meager portions of gruel and water she received she was actually getting a feast fit for a queen. It never worked, but she tried anyway. 

And with each man that used her, she tried to think of Kenshin. She'd chant it over and over, under her breath or in her head; Kenshin, Kenshin, Kenshin. He's into a new thing; he'll make it stop hurting. He loves me. Kenshin, Kenshin, Kenshin. 

But it didn't stop hurting, and if she so much as cried out his name, or something that sounded like his name, she was beaten until her user had had enough or she passed out. No, the hurt never went away.

And neither did the dirty feeling that Kaoru carried with her. The seed that dried on her, the burn of it releasing inside her, the guilt-all of it there. Always. Forever. No matter how hard she scratched herself, it never came off. Not with the water they'd throw on her occasionally, and not with the dirty piece of cloth she called a blanket. 

Her cage itself was small. About six feet all around and seven feet high. Her toilet was a bucket in the corner, and it stank something awful. Of course, she probably did too, she guessed. She couldn't much smell herself, she was too used to her scent already. The people who lived here always said she did anyways. But what did she care? 

Today was Monday though, and Mondays were usually good days. She got to rest, she wanted used, and she wasn't beaten unless she did something wrong. On Mondays she never did anything wrong, or at least she tried not to. Kaoru usually spent Mondays quietly, trying to anticipate when her 'bath' would come. She had to prepare herself for that; the cold water usually bit her as much as a blow if she wasn't prepared.

Predictably, just as Kaoru was just about to slip off into an unconscious state, she heard the drum of feet on pavement. Blearily she opened her eyes, and then she listened harder. _Tap, tap, tap_. There was no mistaking it, her bathwater was coming. With a mental groan Kaoru lifted herself from the cold wooden floor. It seemed to take so much effort now a days, she thought drearily and watched as four men closest to Shishio surrounded her cage, buckets of freezing cold river water weighing them down some. 

They said nothing; they were all under strict orders to not say a word to her. And since Kaoru wasn't privileged to talk herself, it didn't really matter much.  All she ever heard were insults anyway. Nothing too nice was said to her and no one got close enough anyway. They stayed as far as they could get from her, only getting lose to throw things. 

Unless you count the men who used her countless times a day-except on Mondays. Nothing was done to her (usually) on Mondays. She thanked God for that; she thanked him with all of her heart, body, and soul.

So when the first bucked of water came, Kaoru was ready for it. She uttered not a single sound, but let them drench her, one after another. Some common bandits, men and women alike, gathered around to jeer and make fun of her as she shivered and ran her fingers through her hair, which was tangled and knotted, and hanging about her, only tied by a shabby piece of cloth at the nape of her neck. 

Kaoru looked up at the sky and thanked the good Lord it was over. And then she prayed for rescue and she also prayed for the sun to shine of Kenshin today and for his worries to be eased off his shoulders at least a little bit more. Kaoru was religious, she couldn't help that, but that was how she'd been raised. 

And besides, she had to have something to look forward to in death, for wouldn't Heaven take her in? Surely she wouldn't suffer eternal damnation for sexual acts and atrocities she just couldn't prevent? Surely not… and so Kaoru prayed and prayed and prayed. She just prayed for an angel to take her away from this mess and for Kenshin to be happy. That's all she ever wanted. 

Cages. Kamiya Kaoru's savior and tormentor. A ray of sunshine, a ray of darkness. 

TBC

A.N. This idea just popped into my head. I don't own, so don't sue, I have nothing to my name. Nothing you hear me? NOTHING! As always, read and review!


End file.
